


Levi's Mailbox

by IttyBittyTeapot (LittleSeedofDarkness)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bittersweet, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-War, Slow Burn, Tea, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSeedofDarkness/pseuds/IttyBittyTeapot
Summary: After the war, Eren has moved outside the walls. Levi receives a letter from him every Thursday, and though he longs to be with him, he still can't bring himself to pick up where they left off on that painful night before he left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me over my morning coffee today, and I had to dash over to my computer and start writing it (I cannot get enough of writing this pairing). I'm going to call it a ficlet, as it will probably be five or six chapters. I tagged it slow burn, but it's going to be short, so not super slow burny. I thought that tag still fit though.

  Levi goes to his mailbox as he does every day, hand rifling through the envelopes which lay within, hoping, hoping he’ll find what he’s looking for. It should be there.

  A smallish bulky square, neatly addressed, and thick with hopes and dreams. There’s always that perfect red wax seal placed with such evident care. Never messy or haphazard, which is strange considering who it is from.

  Levi finds what he’s looking for, as he has every Thursday for the last year, and he protectively holds it to his chest as he dashes back inside his house.

  He wants to open it right now, soak up all the words inside written only for him, but the sooner he reads it, the sooner it will be over, and he’ll have to wait until next week. The waiting is the worst. He thinks about it every day, crossing his mind more and more each day as receipt of the following letter draws nearer.

  There’s a ritual involved in this, one that began by circumstance the day the first letter arrived. He will brew his tea; a special one he reserves only for this now. It’s sweet and fruity and happy, the perfect juxtaposition of the bittersweet feelings which come each week.

  When the tea is ready, he carries it over to his chair, and he inhales its sweet scent as he sits down and pulls the little envelope from his shirt pocket. That pocket is close to his heart, and he knows it’s why he chooses to carry it there. He doesn't deny this.

  He wants to tear into it and take in every beautiful word right away, but he can’t bring himself to be so careless with this. The envelope is the same as always, the same sturdy textured paper the letter will be written on, and he runs his fingertips over it before circling the wax seal, drawing out this experience.

  The tea is half gone by the time he has carefully popped the seal, not wanting to crack or damage it, and he has to go refill before he settles back into his chair and pulls the missive out and holds it in his hand.

  He opens it slowly, excited when he sees it’s three pages long, and he brings the paper to his nose, inhaling. It smells of Eren, just as he remembers from the night before he left. Rich and musky with a hint of the soap he likes. It smells just like his neck did when he buried his face there, never wanting to let him go.

  His mind is instantly drawn back to that evening; Eren at his house for a farewell party. He is leaving for a life outside the walls in one of the new towns which have been built. Everyone has departed long before, but Eren has lingered, and they sit on the back porch talking for hours under the stars.

  He doesn’t want it to end, and he feels as if Eren doesn’t want it to either. As if he wants him to tell him to stay, to ask him not to go, but Levi can’t do that. Can’t ask him to put aside his dreams only for him. It isn’t right, not after everything Eren has done.

  And Levi doesn’t ask. Inside he is dying so many little deaths as the minute's tick by, but he won’t take this from his friend, he won’t saddle him with the burden of a relationship with him.

  And so, they linger more, and when they are at Levi’s front door, and they share that final hug goodbye, they cling to each other so tightly. Neither man moving for what feels like forever, because if either of them shifts even a bit, it might be the end of their embrace, and neither can endure the reality of it being over.

  Finally, Levi’s arms slacken, and he pulls back, hating the loss of Eren’s warmth and the feel of his arms leaving him. But he knows he must, they can’t stay here like this forever, and he can’t ask Eren to stay. They have to say goodbye.

  He looks up into green eyes, and they see right into him and tell him Eren understands how he feels. It’s all reflected back without Levi having to say a word. And they’re glassy and pleading and full of hope, but he can’t do it, he can’t be that selfish.

  He tries to convey it wordlessly, and when Eren realizes his meaning, he holds his gaze for a moment. Green and grey locked with silent knowing which flashes for barely a second before Eren’s eyes flick down to his lips, and their eyes are closing, then their mouths meet.

  It’s sad and sweet and slow. Their tongues tangling as they cling to each other again. And it’s not the heated passion which pulls two people into a bed, but a loving and agonizing farewell. It barrels right through them, and instead of severing their tie, it only strengthens it and binds them together.

  It feels like it lasts forever, but still not long enough, and as Levi watches Eren walk away through the dark of the night, he knows that brat has finally taken his heart because he vows he’ll never give it to anyone again. He doesn’t need it anymore now anyway.

  The words come into focus as the memory fades, black ink swirling across the cream-colored paper. Levi can feel the indentations from the press of the quill, and he thinks to himself, _‘Eren touched this.’_

  He’s held off long enough and smiles after reading the first paragraph. Something about Eren having to chase down an escaped goat and ending up face down in a stream, muddy and wet. He can picture it. He has some idea of being a simple farmer, and Levi knows he isn’t cut out for it, but he never says anything. It would be too easy for his opinions on the matter to be seen as an excuse, an excuse to make Eren come back and be with him.

  The letter continues on with details of the garden Eren is now growing, and what kinds of meals he’ll make for dinner later in the season with the vegetables. There are anecdotes about things which happened in the past before the end of the war. People and shops and buildings in town that remind him of living within the walls.

  And then it turns, as it always does. It’s everything Eren misses, and the handwriting changes slightly, and Levi knows Eren was forlorn when he wrote this part.

  His heart clenches as he reads the words Eren includes in every letter to him; _‘I miss you, Levi.’_

  “I miss you too,” he says, putting his thoughts out into the universe. Nobody can hear them, but he’s said them anyhow. He is in his house by himself, and he’s never shared these feelings with anyone but the walls. Never told anyone about the kiss he shared with Eren. It’s all too painful and private, and out of his usual realm of control.

  He’s in unfamiliar territory with this. He’s always gone after what he wanted, took what he wanted. He is a man of action, it’s why he did so well in his job in the military, it’s why unlike so many others, he’s still alive. He can’t be _that_ Levi in this, though.

  This is foreign to him, and he doesn’t know how to proceed. What Levi does know, is that Eren is only in his early twenties, he is young and finally happy, and that he has a dream to be a farmer. He knows he has gotten over the war (or is at least good at pretending he did), and that he will build a life of contentment.

  As ever when he reads these letters, Levi wants to go to Eren. The invitation is always at the end of each correspondence before Eren’s scrawling signature with its beautiful loops and curves. Levi can’t take it. As much as he wants to, he knows it wouldn’t be right. Eren doesn’t understand what he’s asking. There is a darkness in Levi, and he can’t taint him with it. He knows Eren possesses darkness as well, but it’s not the same, and he won't dare destroy Eren with it.

  He’s afraid. Afraid if he went to him, if he clung to him, wrapped his arms around him again and never let go, the darkness would infect him. He would soil him like that. He can’t.

  He thinks Eren wouldn’t understand if he explained, so he never has. Eren is young, and he knows what he would do. He would beg and plead, try to convince him. Lay out a plan as if they were planning a battle again.

  So, Levi sighs. He has this argument with himself every week. His brain and his heart tearing him asunder as one tells him to be strong, to be unemotional and steadfast, and the other tells him to be happy, to do what would make Eren happy too.

  The sight of those words draws him in again, even after he’s finished reading. So much care in this weekly gesture, given freely to him out of love. It’s painful when he refolds the paper and carefully stuffs the pages back into the envelope. It feels slightly like that night when he finally pulled away and allowed Eren to go. It doesn’t matter, he’ll continue on with the ritual.

  He finishes his teas and rises, moving upstairs to his bedroom. He keeps a box up there for these letters, stashed under his bed, hidden from the world and hidden from himself. It’s only a plain brown cardboard box, but it’s a perfect size, and when he opens it he slips the newest letter inside, right next to the one from last week, which sits next to the one from the week before, and on and on, back to the first.

  Something tugs a little harder this time than usual, and he hesitates before closing the box. He wants so immensely to keep the newest letter out so he can answer it. Write Eren back, reply to his questions and share his life with him, but he never does.

  He has never responded him. He can’t bring himself to, and he doesn’t know what to say either.

  It’s amazing to him that Eren still sends them every week, faithfully mailing off his thoughts and feelings to a person who never responds.

  “I’m a bastard,” Levi whispers.

  He thinks he’s weak because he knows if he did it, if he sat down at his desk and pulled out paper and pen, that he would attempt to be casual and light, but he would pour his heart out, and his reserve would break. He would send that letter, and he would follow it all the way to Eren and end up back in his arms, and he would never be able to leave. He’d never be strong enough to let him go for the second time.

  Better to deny himself, he thinks. Better Eren believes he can’t talk to him after their kiss or for whatever reason he has constructed in his mind.

  The box is sitting on the floor before him, and he stares hard at it before he slides it back under his bed to rest safely there until next week. Or so he hopes.

  One day he’s sure the letters will stop coming. It’s only natural Eren will grow weary of being ignored or find someone to share his life with. Levi will be a distant memory, perhaps a pleasant ending to that chapter of his life.

  Levi knows Eren doesn’t regret what they shared that night because he tells him he misses him every week, but he will get over him, he assures himself. It’s easier than picturing Eren feeling the same sorrow he does.

  And so, Levi returns to his chair to think and drink his tea. Turning all the words Eren wrote over in his mind for the rest of the evening. And he’ll wait. He’ll wait until next week for the next letter, and for his heart to break a little more.


	2. Chapter 2

  As Levi has his rituals, Eren does as well. Different as they may be, he goes about them as faithfully as the object of his affection. Unlike Levi’s rituals which revolve around comfort for his despair, Eren’s revolve around hope. An almost unbreakable optimism which fuels much of his activities.      

  It matters not it has been over a year since he has last seen him, and he never answers his letters. He knows one day he will, and in the meantime, he will do the things which most remind him of Levi.

  They are mainly little things; the kinds of actions which seem mundane to most, but they are essential to Eren, and he goes through them each day, faithfully.

  He knows why he does it; cleaning and carefully lining the tea tins up on the shelf. It isn’t for the purpose of aesthetics, but more for a connection. It’s what Levi does, and what he taught him to do, but he never quite got right.

  It not only makes him feel closer to him (as far as he may be), but he wants everything perfect when he sees him again. One day he will accept his invitation, Eren is sure of this. His hopes are not so quickly dashed he gives up altogether. He has faith, and he clings to that faith as hard as he clung to Levi the night before he departed.

  And thus, he scrubs, and he dusts, no longer missing the corners and forgetting under the furniture. Eren fills his morning with tidying until it’s time to sit down and write his letter.

  Monday afternoons are reserved for this, as it takes him much time to put his thoughts onto paper.

  Eren can’t cease writing the letters because if he does, he feels as if he’ll lose the thread which ties them together, and if that happens he’ll lose Levi irrevocably.

  So, he reaches out over the long cold miles which separate them and embraces Levi the only way he can. With his words and feelings, he touches him, and he wraps his arms around him once more.

  The letters are never returned, but he doesn’t know for sure if they are ever read. Sometimes he imagines Levi stacking them in a safe, private place unopened, and sometimes he sees him carefully digesting each word, grateful he has sent them.

  Eren isn’t losing his hope, but each unanswered letter cuts a little bit more, his ability to keep his composure falters under the shadow of the lonely reality he exists in.

  He sighs and pulls out his ink and quill as he collects his thoughts, ruminating on what tales to share this week.

    The unique vellum he procures only for his letters to Levi is in his top drawer, and he removes the pages carefully and with reverence and gentleness uncharacteristic of him. He has replenished it just recently, several pieces having been discarded and hidden away.

  Those pages where he isn’t careful with his words, where he madly scribbles down everything he wants to say. Pours his heart out and begs for Levi to visit, and ink drips across the pages as his hand tries to keep up, and his composure cracks.

  He does not spill tears over this because to do so will be an acceptance that Levi is indeed gone from his life for good. And Eren does not accept that.

  There are times when he questions Levi’s love for him, and he thinks perhaps he misconstrues what happened before he left. But then he remembers, and he sees him, sees him that night. He looks into his eyes, and the love and pain of loss are there and reflecting back at him.

  Eren feels Levi’s arms around him again, the way his fingertips dig into his back and how he won’t let go, and he knows he isn’t mistaken. The shuddering breath which tickles his neck, and he thinks for a moment Levi will ask him to stay, yet he doesn’t.

  This memory replays in his head every day, and he sweeps it aside now because he must write.

  He’s not sure today where he should begin. The past week has been tiresome, and he hasn’t started any new projects at his house. He wants to say Levi should come visit, but can’t begin that way.

  So, he explains how nicely he organized his shelf and tells Levi about the new tea he bought…but tea only reminds him of Levi now. Almost everything reminds him of Levi.

  He takes a shaky breath, sliding the page he started into his drawer to join the other unsent thoughts he’s collected over the last year. He can’t send that. He has to begin anew, but feelings have built over the time he’s been away, and it’s harder and harder to stuff them down inside.

  He dips his pen, hand shaking slightly, and without his permission, it all comes free. 

  His words are swooping across the paper, furious and unbridled, unhindered by trying to find the ‘right’ things to say. He’s conveying how much he misses tea with Levi and their evening talks and then asking why he let him go. He has never asked this question before, but it weighs on his mind and has every day since he left, and he can’t bear not knowing anymore.

  And everything falls onto the paper, and Eren is baring his soul. He can’t do this, can’t allow Levi to know how much this affects him, what a mess he has become.

  So, he slides that page to the side and decides to begin yet again. He can’t say and ask everything he wants to; those thoughts are not the kind one communicates through the written word, but something which must be conveyed directly.

  He breathes deep, his head meets the desk as he rests it against the paper, and he collects his thoughts.

  Eren wants to say more this week, he must, but how to word it and what to reveal eludes him.

  There was so much unsaid the night before he left, and there are things he must say now. Maybe Levi doesn’t know he loves him, he thinks. And he worries that they are now separated because neither of them explained how they felt.

  Eren knows this is true of him. He never dared to confess he had fallen in love with Levi. He feared rejection and still does, but if there is a chance at happiness with him, he must take it. He vows he will no longer be fearful and will reveal what was happening inside of him that night.

  And he dips his pen again, refreshing the ink, and his heart swells as hope renews.

  The night is moving faster than he would like, and the feeling time is chasing him as his moments with Levi are dwindling down to nothing is so heavy. He observes him, as he has all evening, stealing glances when he knows he can. Levi appears surprisingly thoughtful to an extent Eren has never seen before. Levi’s often hard eyes are softer tonight.

  Words catch uselessly on the tip of his tongue as he thinks to ask Levi if he’d like him to stay, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes. And time is moving still, and he knows it’s going to run out, but he can’t make it come.

  He almost says it and more, and his fingers dig uselessly into the arms of the chair in frustration as he tries to stop the feelings from going out of his control. And it’s slipping away.

  He hopes something will be said in the course of the conversation which gives him an opening, a reason to confess his feelings, but there is nothing. Nothing but that look of utter despair taking over Levi’s face. And Eren knows it’s because of him. He would bet his life on it, but it’s not enough.

  If Levi would only say something, he thinks, but he never does. And finally, the night is at its conclusion. They are hugging, hugging so tight Eren feels like they could break each other, or as if they might just meld into one.

  But it’s finally over, and they stare into each others' eyes, Levi’s gaze is softening again, to the softest saddest look Eren has ever seen. There’s love in it, pure and undeniable. And at that moment, he thinks he will ask him to stay, and if he doesn’t Eren will offer not to leave, but then there is that hardened reserve again in Levi’s dark grey eyes. The sadness still lingers, but Eren understands what he is saying.

  How it happens is a riddle to him, but a moment after his heart is breaking, they’re kissing and crushing themselves to one another again. It doesn’t make his heart soar, it makes it clench, and his eyes burn. He feels the love communicated, but it’s accompanied by deep regret.

   And he knows, knows it’s not the beginning of anything. It’s a confession and an apology and an end. A searing finale to something which will never be.

  Eren thinks his legs won’t move, his head is so heavy, and he feels nothing but anguish, but he has to go. Levi is at his door watching him, and he can’t stomach the pain he sees in his eyes. So, he goes, he walks out into the night to leave the only love he’s ever had behind.

  Despite his fear of reading those words, he looks down at what he has written, and he feels stronger. Two pages have been filled with his impressions of that evening, and it’s shorter than what he would like to send, but he’s found all the thoughts he can.

  His hands are surer now, and he replenishes the ink on his quill before scribbling out, _‘I love you, Levi.’_

  Eren will no longer resist the urge to write this. He will no longer only say, _‘I miss you, Levi.’_ It is more than that, so much more. He does miss him, of course, but it is a lie of omission. And Eren feels like a liar each week when he writes it because he really wants to say, ‘I love you.’

  ‘ _Let him know how I feel,’_ he thinks. Eren has nothing to lose anymore. He’s taking a step to the edge of a cliff, and his shattered heart may shatter into a million more pieces, but he can’t continue to do this.

  And the heaviness lifts as he finishes signing the letter and he elaborates a little bit more, _‘…and you belong here with me, Eren.’_

  The pages are almost dry, and he wishes they would dry faster because he has to get this into an envelope and sent off before he loses his nerve and changes his mind.  

  He addresses the envelope quickly trying to pass the time, and then he creases the pages.

  "Neatness be damned," he whispers. "A few smudges won’t hurt."

  He finishes as quickly as he can, and though he is careless with the still slightly wet ink, he will not allow his haste to cause him to compromise the wax seal.

  He places it neatly and securely, making sure nothing can befall the letter as it makes its way to its destination.

  And it is done.

  Most weeks he waits until the delivery person comes each day and gives them the envelope, but he can’t do that today. Not this time, not with _this_ letter.

  And so, he tucks the letter into his shirt pocket and abandons his desk. He dashes out of his house, and down the path to the road. It’s not too far to the mail office, and he runs forward as fast as his feet can carry him.

  His hopes are in this letter, and it will be carried all the way to Levi and delivered into his hands. And it can’t happen soon enough, he thinks as he slams through the doors and bangs unceremoniously into the counter.

  The attendant eyes him suspiciously, but he doesn’t care. He just smiles and hands her the letter along with a coin for the postage.

  She stamps it, and he observes as she slips it into a bin for sorting.

  Now Levi will know.

  There is no going back.

  He has sent Levi his heart, and he smiles a hopeful smile, praying he’ll get his in return.


	3. Chapter 3

  Levi’s walk seems longer today. Rain is soaking him, irritating the old injury to his leg. It’s miserable, and the height of what has been a week of misery before the one incredible moment he will have this week.

  The anticipation doesn’t help either, but he supposes it’s his own fault. He has waited until Thursday to replenish his tea. The sweet one he drinks only when he reads Eren’s letters. And of course, it is pouring today.

  It’s a plot of sorts which he has devised. A way for him to pass the time on this day until the mail arrives, whittling away the unbearable feeling of nervous expectation.

  Usually, he would never allow it to run out, he would never wait until the very last minute and the last leaf is gone, but this last week has lingered longer than any other he’s lived through since Eren left. He needs something –anything-- which will pass his time.

  Dragging and dragging, Levi’s thoughts only wander away from Eren for moments, and the pain in his chest is a little bit worse. It’s tormenting and relentless, a constant ache which refuses him any respite.

  But after seven long days of holding his breath, he’s about to breathe again, and there is a light in the darkness. It’s a tiny pinprick, but it’s there. It shines, and it reassures and guides him back.

  He draws his cloak tighter around himself as the rain pelts his face, and his boots are sloshing through the mud, but he doesn’t care. There is a single seed which is growing in his mind, and it is the letter. The letter which will be waiting for him upon his return.

  As always there is trepidation. And Levi worries to himself --as he does every week-- that this week might well be the time one doesn’t come.

  But still, it doesn’t stop him, it doesn’t even slow him as his house comes into sight and he sees the flag is down on the mailbox, and Gods willing, it has arrived.

  When he finally comes to the box, he holds his breath as his hand ventures inside, and his heart jumps a little when he doesn’t feel it at first.

  Frantic for a moment, he digs his hand in further, and the fear presses around him at the prospect that he has at last been forgotten.

  But there it is, pinched between two other pieces of mail, hiding.

  Laying eyes on it isn’t required, he knows what it is without even looking. The feel, the texture, the smoothness of the wax seal. It’s etched into his mind, unforgettable and undying.

  It’s not until Levi pulls it out and his eyes are upon it, that the breath he is holding finds its way out of his lungs and he feels right again. The sight of it is a silent confirmation it’s here, and it does exist, and Eren hasn’t forsaken him.

  And Levi eyes shut, and he lets out one last sigh of relief and shoves his key in the lock.

  And finally…

  Once he is changed from his soaking clothes and his tea is made, he shuffles to his chair. It’s familiar and safe, and somehow sitting here is soothing, no matter how painful waiting has been.

  Still, it can’t whisk away all the anxiety. Levi’s hands are sweating, and a knot is forming in his chest, and this should be getting easier as time goes on, not harder, but it’s so, so, so much harder now, and he can barely keep himself from tearing into the letter.

  It’s only through pure will and fierce determination he stops himself, and carefully pops the seal as he does every week then pulls out the pages.

  The anticipation is too much, and he doesn’t even open it before it’s at his nose and he inhales its scent, and the memories are washing over him again.

  Warmth and strength and impossibly soft lips. Then sadness and hurt and rejection, and Levi feels like a bastard again.

  The smell is so much stronger this week, and he doesn’t know if he imagines it or if it indeed is, but it lingers as he pulls it away, and sees the smeared ink as the pages fall open.

  It’s odd, and Levi knows it. His heart jumps with worry as he stares at the correspondence before him. Eren is always so careful, so neat with the letters, so unlike the intense, reckless man, he’s ever known.

  Words leap out. They hit Levi like a fist, and he knows before he even reads a sentence that Eren is writing about the night before he left. The lurch in his heart is a mix of apprehension and expectancy as he lays his eyes on the first line.

  Levi feels like he’s falling, but he winds his way through the letter, and Eren’s hand reaches out over the distance catching him. He takes him on a journey, and Levi travels through the memory...not alone this time, but with Eren by his side.

_‘I wish you had told me to stay. I wanted you to.’_

  It’s heartfelt and painful, and so horribly honest. So much _his_ Eren, so much the same, but so wounded. Levi did this, and it tears at him, but he continues, paying his penance for his miscalculations and pride.

_‘I was too much of a coward to say it.’_

  Levi knows now he isn’t wrong about what happened. Every impression he has is correct. Every painful ache he suspected in Eren, is there.

_‘I thought I would never be able to let you go.’_

  The heart Levi thinks he broke _is_ broken, and Eren hasn’t moved on. He isn’t past it, he isn’t finding someone else. That night and their kiss was not the pleasant ending to a chapter of Eren’s life which Levi hoped it would be.

_‘I gave you my heart, even if you don’t want it.’_

  That night was the beginning, the start of something which still remains open. It’s not a recollection of the past, looked at fondly and left behind, but a supplicating admission of feelings still alive. And Levi knows this more than he has ever known anything else when he reaches the closing of the letter.

_‘I love you, Levi. And you belong here with me,_

_Eren’_

  The words are right in his ear, he hears them as if Eren is beside him. And when he closes his eyes, he can feel Eren’s arms around him again and his breath against his neck.

Levi’s teacup rattles on the saucer, and he sets it down and pulls the letter to his chest. His jaw clenches as he lets out a shuddering breath and the walls crumble around him. It’s the closest he’s ever come to crying since Furlan and Isabel died, and he tries his damnedest to hold it in as he pulls the letter away, and whispers, “what have I done?”

  And he knows it. Knows that Eren loves him, knows he destroyed his heart, but to see it all laid before him makes it real. Eren’s words smudged, yet sincere, and to read that he _loves_ him…

  It’s cracking Levi’s resolve.

  Eren’s hands hold him tight again, Levi can feel them, and his eyes are pleading. And he sees it, he sees Eren sitting and writing his letters. Eren opens himself up to him, exposes his heart, and all Levi pays him back with is silence.

  Levi curses himself, curses his arrogance. So arrogant to think that he knows what’s best for Eren. He doesn’t know what’s best for himself, because the best thing in his life has been in front of him for seven years, and instead of holding him in his arms, he’s alone in his lonely house taking the solitary ‘high road.’

  His legs are uncrossing, and he is pacing while his composure is lost. The realization of what he has done is crashing down harder as he realizes what a sanctimonious fool he is. His boot meets the leg of the table in a furious kick, and he is so angry because he’s so stupid and selfish and blind.

  His breaths are ragged, and as he pulls one into the bottom of his lungs, it all stops.

  It is quiet. The waves wash over Levi, and he falls to his knees.

  He isn’t alive, he hasn’t been this entire time. He’s only existing. A broken man, missing his other half.

  The insistence to ‘protect’ Eren slides away, and it’s replaced with something new, something bright and sure and beautiful. And he is determined. Levi will make this up, and heal Eren from the wounds he has misguidedly inflicted.

 As his face turns toward the window, he sees it’s evening now, and the sky is darkening. It’s still raining, but it doesn’t stop him. Levi carefully stuffs the letter back in its envelope and into his shirt pocket. It’s going with him.

  And even as he runs up the stairs, he chides himself. He doesn’t deserve Eren, someone, who is so forgiving, and perfect, and brimming with unconditional love. He can only hope to be as good to Eren as he is to him, and the only way to do that is to go now.

  Rain and wind be damned, Levi is leaving.

  He is packing a bag. Hastily throwing in only what he can think of off the top of his head. If Eren will have him, he will come back for his things.

  If Eren will forgive him.

  If Eren will continue to love him.

  There is nothing Levi can ever do to erase it, he can’t take back this year. The sadness and loss will always be there, a shadow which follows him, a wrong he can’t undo. But hope is building, so much promise, and Levi can’t begin to think past tomorrow when he will see Eren again.

  He wishes he wasn’t a day’s ride away. It will be the longest day of his life, but if Levi leaves now, he will be there by this time tomorrow.

  There’s no way to tell Eren he’s coming, he can’t write a letter and wait. It’s impossible. He’s counted the letters, and he knows there are fifty-seven, fifty-seven weeks since he has seen Eren and it is fifty-seven weeks too long, and Levi won’t make it fifty-eight.

  His cloak is hanging on his rack, and it’s still not dry, but it is the absolute last of his worries. He’ll be wet and hungry and dirty and tired, but it’s the smallest price to pay for this. It’s what he deserves.

  Levi’s blown out the lamps and gathered his things, and the wind bites at him as he opens his door and goes to the stable to tack his horse.

  She is annoyed at his insistence that they leave now, but he hushes her with a stroke to her head as he gently murmurs about seeing Eren again. Her eagerness at hearing his name is all the confirmation Levi needs to know this is right.

  Levi's heart swells, as he leads her out of the stable, and as his foot lands in the stirrup,

  Nothing will stop him on this journey, a sea of titans couldn’t. He’d cleave through them like he will cleave through this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was incredibly difficult to write, but it is done, and Levi is finally on his way. Stubborn, little guy.


	4. Chapter 4

  Levi’s entire body aches and is drowned with fatigue, but he doesn’t stop. He is nearing his destination, and as the hunger tears at him and stiffness and aches wrack his body, he tells himself it’s only a bit further.

  He has covered so many miles in the last day, only making stops to rest his horse and allow her to eat. He hates that he’s pushing her this hard, but he knows she understands; the way she cuts through the rain and the wind, she’s determined to drive him there. As if she feels his need, the commitment to himself that he must make it. His thus far unspoken commitment to Eren.

  _‘So close,’_ he tells himself as he breaks through the edge of a forest. There is a castle in view, high up on a hill to his west. He recognizes it.

  A place he and Eren hid in during the war. The two of them alone and injured, trying to live out the day until they could move again and find their comrades at night. Levi remembers it well, a place where they shared a special closeness, binding them in fear of death. Even worse, the fear of the other’s death and never seeing one another again.

  It is where it all began for Levi. Where he realized. And he wonders now if there is a significance in Eren choosing a town so close to this place. He wonders if it is the same for Eren. If he thinks back to that night, if it is when he finally knew, as did Levi. If Eren experienced the same epiphany. It feels so long ago. As if it’s from another lifetime, but Levi is renewed and rushes forward at the sight of it.

  Only a little a farther now.

  A winding road comes into his view, and he sees the small town lit in the distance, its modest homes and buildings are pelted with rain as is he. He knows the address, has had it memorized since the arrival of that first letter, and though it’s unfamiliar, he reassures himself he will find it.

  It doesn’t matter that the rain lashes him like a scourge. As if it’s daring him to go no further. Like some jeering God standing in his way, challenging him to continue on with his cowardice, and his bullheaded ‘reservations.’

  Levi scoffs, he has overcome battles more significant than the weather.

  His pace slows as he turns into the town, and he hates it, hates that his unfamiliarity with this place is hindering him from finding Eren. As if his home should be laid before him, a trail laid out for him to it. But it is another ladder to climb, another test the fates have thrust upon him in his quest to reunite.

  Panic surges through his mind as he edges his horse toward the outskirts. The farms he sees on either side of him tell Levi he’s moving closer.

  Levi doesn’t know what he will say when he arrives, doesn’t know what he’ll do. He grapples with the possibility that he will stand there unmoving and voiceless because he has no inkling of how one repairs such an injustice.

  ‘ _How is,_ ‘I’m sorry’ _enough?’_

  But Levi moving nearer, and there’s no more time to think about it because he’s confident he sees Eren’s home now. He squints through the rain and the darkness at a number by the mailbox. Looks over to the house, rising slightly on the hill. The windows are lit, and the movement of shadows catch his eye as he presses his horse to trot closer.

  A silhouette moving.

  Eren.

  He pauses for a moment before dismounting his breaths are ragged, not from the trip he has just made, but more so from the towering fear he doesn’t have the right words, and he has no more time to find them.

  Mud splatters over him as his boots hit the ground, and his hand reaches out to unlatch the gate.

  Now there is no going back.

  Once his horse is safely tucked away, movement in the window catches his eye again, and he can see a shadow from under his hood as he comes out from the stable. He wants to go to the entrance and knock, but it’s clear he won’t get the chance as he watches the thick wooden door swing open.

  The sight is enough to cause him to crumble. Eren stands in his doorway, the light from within framing him in the almost glowing white nightshirt he is wearing. Eren’s ethereal, inhumanly beautiful, his features obscured by the darkness, though Levi has no doubts it’s him.

  And it’s so fitting, so unbearably ironic that he sees such an image as he stands before Eren while freezing and soaked to his bones in a puddle of mud.

  Levi doesn’t know what to do, he is frozen, his legs refusing to move until their eyes meet, and he hears his voice.

  “Levi?” Eren calls. Levi can’t move, as he watches Eren’s brow dive down, eyes hardening before they soften, and he gives Levi a hesitant smile.

  Levi’s legs finally carry him, and it’s slow, so painfully slow. That short distance is like a canyon between them.

  And Eren is moving toward him, and Levi cannot have him running out into this cold, this wet, and into this muck. It can’t be that way, he tells himself as he surges forward, and warm arms catch him.

  Levi is wet and cold and shivering, but Eren doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t complain about the mud being smeared on him or Levi’s cloak soaking him. All he does is wrap his arms around Levi like a vice.

  Levi crushes Eren back, pulling him into his chest, and he can smell him as he buries his head in the crook of his neck and breathes him in. It’s strong. His scent is so much stronger than on those letters. Levi wants to melt into Eren and never let him go.

  It’s so much like the night before Eren left, but so much different. Where there was only sorrow that night, on this night there is hope.

  Levi can feel a small shudder and hears a fearful whisper.

  “Don’t go,” Eren says.

  The fear is so sharp, so agonizingly concise. It rips right through Levi to know he has done this, and dashes all his energy away. They cling tighter, and Levi’s legs are so weak it pulls them down.

  Down to the sodden wood of the little porch, but Levi doesn’t care. It feels like an eternity they stay that way, kneeling in the cold wet, but so warm holding each other.

  Then the shudders come again, and it draws Levi back. Shining green eyes look at him in question.

  “Am I dreaming?” Eren asks, his voice is so small and unsure.

  “No, you’re not.” Levi's hand reaches out, cold fingers press against the heat of Eren’s face, and his thumb runs over his cheek unconsciously checking for the wetness of tears.

  Hearing his voice again is a beacon, some shining light Levi can reach out to, and he almost breaks down.

  And Levi feels it, sees it when he looks at Eren. His eyes are like green pools, stormy and reflective. They look sad and hopeful. As if Eren doesn’t believe him. Like he’s a ghost or a trick. And Levi needs to erase that expression.

  A sad smile curves onto Levi’s lips, his forehead touching Eren’s now so he can get closer. To show Eren his own eyes, so he sees he doesn’t lie. See that he is real and he’s here.

  Levi wants to spend the rest of his life looking into Eren’s eyes, holding him and so much more, but there are words unspoken which first must be said.

  As Levi fumbles for them, those declarations which would paint a picture of what he still can’t grasp, resolve breaks and their eyes shut before their lips are drawn together.

  It starts out slow, innocent almost, breathing into each other. Levi testing this reality because he’s so afraid it will vanish. But then it is desperate and hungry, and they are devouring each other, Levi knowing this is the only way he can impart this to Eren.

  It’s as if they could fold into each other. There is need and want, and all the desperation of lovers long separated finally reunited, but it’s different, and the heat which would catapult them into tearing at their clothes and becoming one is forgotten for the moment.  

  And it’s as if they could speak through a kiss.

  All the pain of the last year and the time they spent before that with unspoken love, arrogance, cowardice and heart-wrenching pain is finally released. It is words unsaid, a bond never declared, and stubborn self-imposed suffering erased.

  Fingers dig, muscles bunch and tighten, and they are swallowed up in their own world of only them. The rain pouring on them is forgotten, the angry breeze that chills them. Because it’s not cold here, it’s perfect. Perfect for that moment. Something is exchanged in their kiss, an apology, forgiveness, and reassurance.

 The feel of Eren’s fingers moving through the stubbly hair on the back of Levi’s head him back into reality. Such a small thing, but familiar enough to tell Levi he doesn't imagine this. It is confirmation. And it’s Eren who pulls back now, looking at Levi again.

  Eren’s voice is soft. Cracking as he says, “I don’t want to move, but we have to get inside.”

  “I don’t think I can move.” Levi’s arms tighten around Eren more, and his hands move up his back, and he grasps his long hair, testing its silkiness, its realness, savoring the feel of something so simple because it’s Eren.

  “Yes you can,” Eren admonishes. “You’re going to get sick, you’re soaking wet.” He pulls away from Levi, tugging him up, and through the door.

  It’s not even shut before Eren is pulling at Levi’s cloak, then his jacket and Levi feels like such an asshole for showing up as a mess.

  Levi’s hand reaches out, brushing the soaking hair which sticks to Eren’s face from his eyes. “I can manage. You’re all wet too. You should change.”

  Eren’s eyes are looking questioningly, disappointedly at Levi again, that guarded fear still behind them, and Levi understands why.

  “I’m not going to leave unless you want me to…” Levi says, embracing Eren again. He can feel Eren shiver when his lips move against his ear. “…but you have to let me explain first. I hurt you, and you need to know why if you wish for us to move forward.”

  “It’s alright, I’m not mad,” Eren breathes back.

  “I know you aren’t, but we can’t do this properly if I don't tell you why I did what I did. It’s important.”

  There is a flash of understanding, and Levi would like to pretend the past didn’t happen, stuff it in a box and toss it away, but he wants Eren to know.

  Eren smiles and pulls away. He glances down at Levi, holds his gaze, then presses a kiss to his lips, and takes a deep breath. “There are towels in the bathroom. I’ll change and make us some tea so we can talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I anticipate it being difficult, but I am so ridiculously excited to write the next chapter. :D


	5. Chapter 5

  It takes Levi a moment of fiddling with his bag and one last glance in the mirror before he’s ready to leave the bathroom. He hasn’t been so presumptuous as to put on the night clothes he’s brought. Instead, he opts for the clean white button down and dark pants he stuffed in there the day before.

  He hopes he’ll be putting on his pajamas later. That Eren will want him to stay, but Levi plans for the possibility that given a chance to reject him, Eren might.

  His heart beats madly with fear and hopeful anticipation. He knows he can’t hide in here forever. Levi drags in a shaky breath, and shuffles out into the living room, greeted by the sight of Eren sitting on the sofa, tea in hand.

  The warm lamp light bathes him, and he’s in a fresh nightshirt smiling at him. Levi reminds himself that no matter how appealing Eren is right now like that, they need to speak first. Though he doesn’t hide his awe at how Eren looks sitting there, and a tiny gasp escapes his lips as he takes in that now longer hair again and his sharp features as he drops his bag next to the sofa and sits down beside him. Levi’s unguarded right now, though he doesn’t care. If ever there was a time to be so open it is this moment.

  And he’s grappling again with how to say what he needs to, but Eren eases his burden as he presses a teacup towards his hand, slides closer, and looks at Levi with painfully expressive eyes.

  “You look so serious,” Eren says.

  Levi knows Eren is trying to lift the weight of the unspoken words between them the best way he knows how.

  Levi sighs, fixing his eyes on the cup of tea in his hand, then flicks them up at Eren. “I shouldn’t have let you leave…”

  His words hang in the air for a moment, and he thinks on how to express the rest of what needs to be said. Eren is so patient, and he’s looking at Levi with loving curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

  “…but I thought I was protecting you. I suppose I wasn’t.”

  “Protecting me from what?” Eren asks and drags his teeth across his bottom lip.

  “From me,” Levi answers.

  “I knew it,” Eren says, his voice rising in volume when he continues, “Why would I need protecting from you?”

  “I don’t know anymore, but it made sense then,” Levi says, pausing, “I’ve done a lot of things. Not all were good.” He circles the rim of his cup with his forefinger, losing himself in the pattern of rising steam. “Sometimes they make me dark, disconnected. I didn’t want to burden you with that.” It sounds like so much less now when Levi hears it from his own mouth. Such flimsy reasons for keeping them apart for a year, he thinks. More than a year, if he is honest with himself.

  “I’ve done bad things too,” Eren replies.

  Levi looks up at him, and Eren still appears so forgiving, so loving, not cross with him at all.

  “I know. I didn’t want to force you to stay, either,” Levi says as he shakes his head. “Not when you wanted to do this, and I couldn’t have gone with you then.”

  “But you can leave the city now, right?”

  “I can.”

  “Then that’s another problem that isn’t there anymore.” Eren moves his hand up to brush fingertips over the edge of Levi’s jaw. “I don’t give a shit about your misguided noble intentions.”

  “I’m a lot older than you. That hasn’t changed and it never will,” Levi points out.

  “I don’t care about that,” Eren whispers. “Do you?”

 Levi can see that fear returning to Eren’s features. “ _I_ don’t, but in the future, _you_ might.”

  “Why would I care? I never have.” Eren voice is rising again, cracking and rough. “Even when I was sixteen, and I realized I loved you, I didn’t care.”

  “I’ll be an old man long before you.”

  “I’m not going to care. You’ll always be beautiful to me,” Eren says, jaw set. “How do I make you understand?”

  “I could get a grey hair any day now.” Levi is half serious, half joking, but he has to do something to lighten the heaviness of this conversation.

 Eren shifts, he moves closer to Levi, kneels before him, and grasps his hand. His fingers trace his palm, and he looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, puts Levi’s hand on his chest over his heart so he can feel it beating.

  “The only problem your age presents for me, is you thinking you have to protect me _from you_ because you’re older and ‘know better,’ or something stupid like that.” Eren smiles. “You’re an idiot. Don’t _ever_ do it again.”

  Eren presses a kiss to his palm, and Levi’s eyes close. He can barely stop himself from closing the distance between them to toss all of Eren’s insecurities aside.

  “I won’t ever do it again.” It’s a pledge and a promise, and Levi means it honestly, more than anything before.

  “I have one thing to ask, then,” Eren whispers, threading his fingers between Levi’s.

  The energy has changed, and Levi fears what Eren will say next. His mouth is dry, but he swallows slowly. “Anything.”

  “Do you love me?” Eren asks.

 Levi hears the hesitation, the nervousness. He can see it in the way Eren’s mouth tips down at the corners, feel it in the twitch of his hand.

  “Yes.” The words barely leave Levi’s lips before Eren is upon him, and his arms are winding desperately around him, Eren’s mouth silencing him.

   The kiss is chaste for less than a second before Levi nips at Eren’s lips then deepens it. They are so starved for one another, and that hunger which only touched them as an undertow earlier is all there now.

  They are panting against each other, and their movements are quick and rough. Eren’s pulling his fingers down Levi’s chest, his lungs hitching with breath beneath his hands, then fumbling at the waistband of his trousers.

  But Levi stops them for a moment and breathes a warning against Eren’s lips, “If we do this, you’ll never be rid of me.”

  “Good,” Eren mumbles back and dives for Levi again, ravenous and frenzied.

  It’s fast and hungry and good, but Levi slows them down. He wants to draw this out as much as he can, appreciate everything about Eren. His skin, his lips, the way he whines into his mouth with every feather-light touch. He places a tender kiss against Eren’s lips and pulls back, hands reaching out to hold his face and trace the lines of his cheeks and jaw with his thumbs before his fingers glide over Eren’s neck and Levi follows with brushes of his lips, tasting him.

  Eren is falling back, Levi’s warm weight is upon him, as he cries out at the nips against his flesh, teeth catching the skin on his chest as Levi pulls the neck of his shirt down, exposing more of him. Marking him, branding him, imbuing what he never allowed himself to before.

  Calloused hands are mapping Levi’s chest, and Eren’s fingers move down to skim over his hip bones, fingers finding buttons and pulling at his pants again. Levi groans, their desperate hands catching fabric before their clothes become a forgotten pile on the floor.

  When Levi kneels over Eren, he slides his hands over tanned skin, loses himself in half-lidded eyes looking up at him. Eren smirks and pulls him down, bare flesh meeting bare flesh for the first time, hard and hot. Levi finds Eren’s lips again as he rises up against him.

  His big hands splay over Levi’s back, fingers raking, finding muscles to grasp down lower, pressing Levi’s hips down against, squeezing Levi’s hips with his thighs. He twists beneath Levi, crying out at every touch, and it’s like liquid fire coursing through their skin.

  Levi’s digging in his bag set by the couch, retrieving what he needs, calming Eren with slow, deep kisses, tasting him languidly before his oil-slicked finger is pressing against Eren.

  His eyes soften as they meet green, and Levi’s cock twitches this side of agonizing as Eren gasps.

  “Please, Levi. Please, please, please.”

  “Eager,” Levi hums as he stretches him open, and bites his lip, watches Eren’s jaw go slack, and his eyes close. There’s no apprehension in Eren’s expression when he presses back, meeting each thrust of fingers Levi drives inside him.

  Levi presses his nose to Eren’s neck, breathes him all in, views him through hungry eyes as he cries out, begs and pants and arches below him. And they buck against each other, can’t get close enough no matter how close they are pressed, no matter how tightly they hold.

  It doesn’t matter how slow Levi wants to go, because Eren grips him, squeezes him with trembling legs, whispers against his ear, and Levi’s undone. “You’re not close enough. I want you closer…I want more.”

  Levi doesn’t need any more encouragement before he is slicking himself up, his cock nudging against Eren, and he’s finally inside him. He pauses for a moment to appreciate the blush that now dusts Eren’s cheeks and the way he clings to him and tries to spur him to move.

  “Fuck…” Levi hisses, jaw clenching before they finally roll against each other and he snaps his hips forward. The friction is overwhelming, deep and slow, and it’s like sweet fucking torture.

  Eren grasps Levi’s shoulders, pulls them flush, and threads his fingers through his hair. “Closer, closer,” he whispers.

  Levi pulls his face away from where he’s buried it against Eren’s neck and laces their fingers together. He leaves wet kisses up one side of Eren’s throat and down the other. Then squeezes his hand before he moves faster, harder, and fire spreads through Levi’s stomach like a match striking flint as he feels himself getting closer.

  As Eren finds his release, he quakes beneath Levi, back arching, muscles stiffening, and their lips mesh as Levi follows him, a soft cry sighed into Eren’s mouth.

  Eren belongs to him now, Levi thinks. Possessive and so sure, and he claims him, marks Eren deep inside where nobody else will ever touch him.

  They stay that way for what feels like hours, panting against each other, still tasting flesh and leaving sweet kisses, before Levi slips from Eren and rolls next to him, then takes him into his arms and presses his head against his chest.

  The weight of the act is still too heavy for words, and soft flitting touches are laid upon their bare skin, and they drink each other in with fingertips, testing reality for long minutes before Eren pulls himself up Levi’s body and leaves a light kiss upon his forehead.

  “I still feel like I’m dreaming,” Eren says.

  Slender fingers sift through Eren’s hair before they settle on his cheek, and Levi turns his face, forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re not.”

  “You sure?” Eren asks and smiles.

  Levi nods and kisses Eren again. “Certain.”

   They’re both so tired, too tired to move to the bedroom. Levi pulls the blanket which sits on the back of the couch above them and pulls Eren closer.

  Levi watches Eren’s eyes droop before they snap back open. “You need sleep.”

  “I’m trying to stay awake,” Eren says.

  “Why?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be gone when I wake up.”

  Levi tightens his arms around Eren more and looks into still unsure eyes. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and every day after that.”

  “You do love me,” Eren says, smirking.

  “I do.”


	6. Epilogue

  It feels like a typical day to Levi, but he knows it’s not. He’s woken up beside Eren and done his usual day to day chores, but this day is different. He doesn’t place as much significance on things like this as Eren does, not because he doesn’t care, or because Eren doesn’t mean as much to him as he does to Eren, they’re only different.

  In truth, seeing Eren excited about it means more to Levi than the day itself. His smile, his affection, the special dinner, and those extra hugs and cuddles he will insist on claiming.

  And then there is that one other thing. The letter Eren now leaves for Levi once a year on this day; the anniversary of the day Levi came to him.

  It’s sitting in the same place it has been the previous four years. On the desk, in one of those same small square envelopes, Levi’s weekly correspondence used to arrive in. His name is neatly and beautifully written on it, the care it was scribed with, quite obvious.

  He appreciates them as much as he did those weekly letters, looks forward to them the same…but these letters are different. Where there were once apprehensive longing evident years before in those tidings, these letters are filled with ardent and loving declarations. Those words a too bashful Eren can barely squeak out when they whisper to each other under the dark blanket of night. 

  When Levi opens it up and reads, it’s like poetry. Elegant and evocative, a depth of love conveyed which words can barely touch. But somehow Eren accomplishes it, and it comes through, and though not outwardly visible, Levi beams and warms in a fashion only Eren can cause.

  He looks to the window in the kitchen as he refolds the papers, sees Eren outside, standing in the berry patch, hauling up a basket and heading to the house. So, he quickly stashes the letter away before he comes inside. They won’t discuss it or the previous four, they never have because they don’t need to. There is a simple, quiet understanding between them, wordless and unbreakable, and where Eren will surely show it further with a well-prepared meal tonight, Levi will with looks and extra kisses and soft worshiping touches once Eren makes it inside.

  “What have you got there?” Levi asks as Eren strolls into their house.

  “A lot of strawberries,” Eren says as he passes Levi and sets the basket down on the counter.

  Levi is right on Eren’s heels and embraces him tightly from behind. He traps Eren in his arms and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “For dessert, tonight, and I’ll use the rest for jam tomorrow.”

  Eren squeezes Levi’s around him, holds them hard against him with his own, threads his soil covered fingers with Levi’s and stays that way for moment before he’s turning around in his arms so meets his eyes.

  Eren leans down and touches his forehead down against Levi’s. “I want a kiss,” he says, flicking his eyes to the empty spot on the desk then back at Levi.

  There’s something different about it on this day when their lips meet. Levi tries to give back what Eren gave in his missive. The kiss is silent and penetrating and so intense, and it tears through Levi and settles somewhere inside.

  They hang there for long moments off each other after their lips part, filling their senses with only them, committing one another to memory again and again, before Eren pulls back and rubs his thumb across Levi’s cheek. “You’re dirty.”

  “You got more on my face, Brat.” Levi regards him closely, pulls back a little further and inspects the mud smeared on Eren’s hand's, cheeks, and chest. “You’re not much better, yourself. You’ve been out in the dirt since morning.”

  “I was getting things for dinner.” There’s mock hurt there, and Levi’s lips turn up slightly, he adores this playful aspect of Eren.

  “Hm, we both need a bath,” Levi says. “It would be a shame to be all dingy for our dinner.”

  No more words need to be spoken, and Eren is right behind Levi as he moves to the bathroom to draw the water, and he’s hardly finished before Eren is pulling at his clothes in his exuberance.

  “We should get clean first, don’t you think?” Levi scolds with a smirk before moving Eren’s fingers to the buttons on his own shirt and begins to undress.

  It’s not that Levi doesn’t want it. He’s merely less impatient than Eren. The brat would fuck covered in mud and all right now if Levi would allow it.

  But none of the grime and dust and sweat keeps Levi from taking in the skin that’s being revealed before him little by little, or giving a nip to Eren’s lips before he climbs into the tub and sinks into the steamy water.

  He lays back, spreads his legs to give Eren his place between them before he beckons Eren with a look. Eren grins, settling into the warmth, back against Levi’s chest, pulling his arms to wrap around him.

  One to always get to the task at hand, Levi’s given Eren less than a minute to relax before he pours water over his head and starts washing his hair.

  “I bet people would think it’s funny that you do this for me,” Eren says as soapy fingers run through his locks.

  Levi laughs. One of those laughs he only gives to Eren. “I bet you wouldn’t dare tell anyone I do this,” Levi says. “They’d think you were lying, anyway.”

  “They would,” Eren concedes, fingertips gliding along the tops of Levi’s thighs. “I’d rather keep this Levi to myself, only for me to know about.”

  “Hmm,” Levi hums. He likes things better this way. Eren brings out a side of him he wasn’t so sure existed before, and he can say and do things alone with him he could never allow anyone else to see. He doesn’t view it as a short-coming, but as a testament to how special Eren is, and to how much he is exposed beneath his gaze, his hands, and his heart.

  Levi’s lips curve. Eren is already becoming impatient as he washes his own hair. He teases Levi, presses back against his cock trapped between them. Levi rinses the shampoo quickly, nips against the back of Eren’s neck, and pushes a sponge into his hand. “You better hurry up and wash.”

  Eren feigns a whine, but after that, it’s a blur of soap suds and Levi’s hands all over him before Levi knows he can’t take it anymore. Eren turns around, and smashes their mouths together. Whatever patience Levi had has been chipped away. He reaches under the water to take both of them in his hand, teasing Eren back with punishingly slow strokes.

  Levi can take it, but Eren can’t, and he’s pleading against Levi’s smirking lips, earning him a squeeze around the base of his cock.

  “Levi, please…”

  “What would you like, Eren?” Levi mumbles against his lips before he draws back, his eyes fixed on pleading green. He prizes that look; Eren coming undone.

  “You know what I want,” Eren gasps, pressing closer to Levi trying to get some friction, spur his hand back into movement.

  “I do,” Levi whispers. “But I like hearing you say it.”

  Eren falls forward, head resting against Levi’s shoulder, obscene words tickling against his skin. “Just…just fuck me.”

  “Such a dirty mouth today…”

  “Your fault,” Eren goads before Levi is on his knees, slides behind him, and coaxes him gently toward the side of the tub.

  “You should hold on tight,” Levi advises and smiles. One hand smooths over Eren’s back, traces rivulets of water down, comes to rest over his ass, while the other reaches for oil by the side of the tub.

  Eren’s cracked his composure again. Like he always does, and Levi doesn’t give a fuck, he delights in it, relishes how Eren can shatter him like this. But he has broken Eren just the same, he thinks, as he begins to stretch him open, feels Eren push back, move with him, desperate and already shaking.

 Levi tries to ease Eren’s desperation, slow him down, runs his fingers over his back again, then down his chest, and drapes himself over him to leave feather light kisses against the nape of his neck.

  Eren’s a trembling, gasping mess by the time Levi has readied him and he’s slowly sinking himself in. He grasps Eren’s cock, and grits his teeth because he wants to get in faster, but slow feels so good, and Eren is so hot, and he wants to whisper those words he says most often when they’re like this.

  “Love you,” Levi murmurs, his breath fanning over Eren’s skin. “You’re mine.”

  He feels Eren harden more at that statement, hears him sob, and it drives him into movement. Unhurried and deep at first, but Eren presses back so hard, and his uttered curses and whimpers coax Levi to move faster. He rests his face against Eren’s shoulder, biting, sucking, blunt nails scratching down his chest. Levi’s all around Eren, chest flush against his skin. Driving inside, Levi is wild and uncontrolled until water is sloshing onto the floor. Eren is sagging, his legs teetering on the edge of collapse before Levi feels his release spill over his hand and he is pulsing around him, pulling Levi over the edge.

  They crumple unceremoniously into the water, before Levi leans them back, and moves Eren’s still shaking body to lay against his chest. He looks down, appreciates Eren’s flushed face, and sweeps his fingers through the wet hair plastered to his cheek.

  Eren looks up, eyes fixed on Levi’s. “That was better than last year’s anniversary sex.”

  “Which time in particular? We did it more than once.” Levi traces the lines of Eren’s face, runs this thumb over smiling lips.

  “I don’t know. All of them,” Eren breathes.

  “You know, you said this last year and the year before?”

  “Yes. It gets better every year, though.”

  “Is dinner going to be better than last year?” Levi asks, smiling at the scowl that appears on Eren’s face.

  “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to burn it.”

  “I’m only teasing you.”

  “I know, but I’m not letting that happen again.”

  Levi sighs contented, squeezes Eren harder, and brushes their lips together. He doesn’t care if dinner burns again, or about the water all over the floor. At the moment, he doesn’t even care about getting out of the tub, because everything he loves, everything he cares about, is already in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short epilogue just to neatly end things, but it turned into porn. I swear those two wouldn't let me not make it porn. No matter what I tried, it kept going that way. I still got the details I wanted in there, though, so I'm perfectly happy with it.
> 
> Anyhow, though short, this is the first fanwork I've finished since starting to write fanfiction again, and my first for this fandom. I just wanted to thank you guys so much for reading, and the kudos, and especially the kind words. I can't tell you how happy it makes me, and how great it is to write in a fandom with such wonderful people.
> 
> Thank you, thank you! <3 <3 <3


End file.
